University of Virginia Library

Scene 1.

Lady.
Prudence.
Come wench, this sute will serue: dispatch, make ready.
It was a great deale with the biggest for me;
Which made me leaue it off after once wearing.
How do's it fit? wilt come together?

Pru.
hardly.

Lad.
Thou must make shift with it. Pride feeles no pain:
Girt thee hard, Pru. Pox o' this errand Taylour,
He angers me beyond all marke of patience.
These base Mechanicks neuer keepe their word,
In any thing they promise.

Pru.
'Tis their trade, madam;
To sweare and breake, they all grow rich by breaking,
More then their words; their honesties, and credits,
Are still the first commodity they put off.

Lad.
And worst, it seemes, which makes 'hem do't so often.
If he had but broke with me, I had not car'd,
But, with the company, the body politique—

Pru.
Frustrate our whole designe, hauing that time,
And the materials in so long before?

Lad.
And he to faile in all, and disappoint vs?
The rogue deserues a torture—

Pru.
To be crop'd
With his owne Scizzers.

Lad.
Let's deuise him one.

Pru.
And ha' the stumps sear'd vp with his owne searing candle?

Lad.
Close to his head, to trundle on his pillow?
I'le ha' the Leasse of his house cut out in measures.

Pru.
And he be strangl'd with 'hem?

Lad.
No, no life
I would ha'touch't, but stretch'd on his owne yard
He shold be alittle, ha' the strappado!

Pru.
Or an ell of taffata
Drawne thorow his guts, by way of glister, & fir'd
With aqua vitæ?

Lad.
Burning i'the hand
With the pressing iron cannot saue him.

Pru.
Yes,
Now I haue got this on: I doe forgiue him,
What robes he should ha'brought.

Lad.
Thou art not cruell,
Although streight-lac'd, I see, Pru!

Pru.
This is well.

Lad.
'Tis rich enough! But 'tis not what I meant thee!
I would ha'had thee brauer then my selfe,
And brighter farre. 'Twill fit the Players yet,
When thou hast done with it, and yeeld thee somwhat.

Pru.
That were illiberall, madam, and mere sordid
In me, to let a sute of yours come there.

Lad.
Tut, all are Players, and but serue the Scene. Pru,
Dispatch; I feare thou dost not like the prouince,
Thou art so long a fitting thy selfe for it.
Here is a Scarfe, to make thee a knot finer.

Pr.
You send me a feasting, madame.

La.
Weare it wench.

Pru.
Yes. but, with leaue o'your Ladiship, I would tel you
This can but beare the face of an odde iourney.

Lad.
Why Pru?

Pru.
A Lady of your ranke and quality,
To come to a publique Inne, so many men,
Yong Lords, and others, i'your company!
And not a woman but my selfe, a Chamber-maid!

Lad.
Thou doubt'st to be ouer-layd Pru? Feare it not,
Ile beare my part, and share with thee, i'the venter.

Pru.
O but the censure, madame, is the maine,
What will they say of you? or iudge of me?
To be translated thus, 'boue all the bound
Of fitnesse, or decorum?

Lad.
How, now! Pru!
Turn'd foole vpo'the suddaine, and talke idly
I'thy best cloathes! shoot bolts, and sentences
T'affright babies with? as if I liu'd
To any other scale then what's my owne?
Or sought my selfe, without my selfe, from home?

Pru.
Your Ladyship will pardon me, my fault,
If I haue ouer-shot, I'le shoote no more.

Lad.
Yes shoot againe, good Pru, Ile ha' thee shoot,
And aime, and hit: I know 'tis loue in thee,
And so I doe interpret it.

Pru.
Then madame,
Il'd craue a farther leaue.

Lad.
Be it to licence,
If sha'not want an eare, Pru, Say, what is it?

Pru.
A toy I haue, to raise a little mirth,
To the designe in hand.

Lad.
Out with it Pru.
If it but chime of mirth.

Pru.
Mine host has, madame,
A pretty boy i'the house, a deinty child,
His sonne, and is o'your Ladiships name too, Frances,
Whom if your Ladiship would borrow of him,
And giue me leaue to dresse him, as I would,
Should make the finest Lady, and kins-woman,
To keepe you company, and deceiue my Lords,
Vpo'the matter, with a fountaine o'sport.

Lad.
I apprehend thee, and the source of mirth
That it may breed, but is he bold enough,
The child? and well assur'd?

Pru.
As I am, madame,
Haue him in no suspicion, more then me:
Here comes mine host: will you but please to aske him,
Or let me make the motion?

Lad.
Which thou wilt, Pru.